


What a privilege it is to love

by magicpiano



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Canon Era, Canonical Character Death, Established Relationship, Fix-It of Sorts, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Not Beta Read, Panic Attacks, Post-Barricade, Self-Worth Issues, Suicidal Thoughts, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:13:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23220763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicpiano/pseuds/magicpiano
Summary: "I just want to build you up, build you up'Til you're good as newAnd maybe one day I will get around to fixing myself too"AU where Enjolras and Grantaire survive the barricade.
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47





	What a privilege it is to love

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song "Two" by Sleeping At Last. I know it is not supposed to be a love song, but it just fits so well, and I have zero self-control. I recommend you listen to the song while reading. It is what I listened to while writing. You can find it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PrDzd4ufypE
> 
> Please mind the tags!! I might have over tagged this, but I didn't want to accidentally trigger someone by not tagging something properly so....

_ Sweetheart, you look a little tired _

_ When did you last eat? _

_ Come in and make yourself right at home _

_ Stay as long as you need _

_ Tell me, is something wrong? _

_ If something's wrong you can count on me _

_ You know I'll take my heart clean apart _

_ If it helps yours beat _

Grantaire is awakened by the sound of whimpering and the body between his arms trembling. He shakes off the lingering exhaustion clinging to his bones and turns all his attention to Enjolras. Grantaire knew what was happening, it had happened before, and doubtlessly would happen again. The nightmares never truly left them alone.

Grantaire gently put his hand on Enjolras’ shoulder and gave him a light shake.

“Enjolras,” Grantaire whispered “it is just a nightmare. Wake up love.”

Enjolras made a soft pained sound into his pillow, but his eyes began to blink open, so at least he was coming out of it a bit. Grantaire gave Enjolras another shake. Enjolras opened his eyes and bleakly looked up at him. Grantaire saw tears pooling in Enjolras’ eyes and felt his heart begin to shatter.

“Hush now love,” Grantaire said as he wiped the tears from Enjolras’ cheek, “It is all right now. It was just a dream.”

“I killed them.” Enjolras’ voice was filled with desperation. The nightmare still embedded in his mind.

Grantaire had a good guess of what the nightmare was about but having it confirmed still saddened him.

“No.” Grantaire said firmly, “It wasn’t your fault. They made their choice, every single one of them.”

Enjolras made a sound like a choked off sob and began to curl into himself under their blanket. Enjolras’ body shock under Grantaire’s hands. His breathing came out labored. It frightened Grantaire more than he cared to admit. Grantaire never quite knew how to comfort Enjolras on nights like this. He once again wished that Combeferre was here, surely he would know what to do.

But Combeferre was dead, in an unmarked grave with the rest of their friends. Abandoned by their families who were unwilling to lay claim to the bodies of rebels.

In the end he began doing what he always did; he made sure Enjolras knew he was not alone.

Grantaire kissed each tear as it left Enjolras’ eyes. He whispered words of love into Enjolras’ hair with gentle care. None of it ever seemed to be enough though. In Enjolras’ mind, he was the thing that had killed all their friends. No words from Grantaire or Marius were ever enough to convince Enjolras otherwise. Grantaire feared that Enjolras would take this self-blame with him to the grave.

It was ugly and selfish, but Grantaire couldn’t help but be a bit bitter towards his dead friends. How dare they die and break Enjolras’ heart like this? It was a thought that kept coming back and he always hated himself for thinking it. After all their deaths were as much on his hands as anyone else’s. He was the one who slept through their murder, only waking in time to run away to safety with Enjolras.

Maybe if he had been awake, he could have fought back. Maybe one of his friends would have gotten to live on in his stead. Any one of them deserved to live far more than him. Any one of them would have been better support to Enjolras than he was. But he was the one that survived, so taking care of Enjolras was a job that fell to him, woefully unqualified or not.

Grantaire gathered Enjolras up into his arms and held him to his chest. He threaded his fingers through Enjolras’ soft golden hair hoping the touch might bring Enjolras some solace. Slowly Enjolras’ sobs began to die down and his breathing became more even. If Grantaire didn’t know better, he would think that Enjolras had fallen back to sleep, but he knew that was not the case. The sound of gunshots still rattled the brain; sleep was miles away on nights like this.

“Perhaps tomorrow we should call upon Marius?” Grantaire asked. This was something that usually succeeded in bringing some cheer to Enjolras. 

They had grown closer to Marius since the barricades. Grantaire thought it brought him some solace to see that at least one other has survived the slaughter.

Grantaire supposed it was some type of cruel divine irony that the two people most likely to argue with Enjolras’ politics were the survivors. Enjolras didn’t fight with Marius about Napoleon anymore. Enjolras didn’t really do anything anymore.

It didn’t have the effect he had hoped. Enjolras didn’t make a sound or perk up at the idea of visiting their only remaining friend and his beautiful fiancé. Grantaire tried not to let his disappointment show.

“You must stop blaming yourself like this,” it was hypocritical all things considered, but Grantaire said it anyway.

Enjolras made a small sound, a huff of aggravation. This was a good sign, annoyance at Grantaire meant he was coming back to himself.

“It is the truth,” Enjolras mumbled into Grantaire’s chest, “you were right all along. We didn’t stand a chance.”

It was these moments where Grantaire regretted every callus word he had ever spoken to Enjolras. Having them repeated back at him with such resignation nearly broke him every time. What he wouldn’t do to give hope back to Enjolras. Seeing the fire in Enjolras’ eyes die was the worst thing Grantaire had ever witnessed, and a few weeks ago he had stepped over his dead friends’ still warm bodies while running from the national guard.

Sometimes it seems that Grantaire only had the capability to speak words that hurt; He didn’t know any that could heal. If Jehan was here, he would say something beautiful. Jehan isn’t here.

Grantaire searched his mind for the right thing to say, he settled for something he knew to be true with every fiber of his being.

“They wouldn’t blame you.”

“They should.” Enjolras said, “I would hate me, if I was them.”

This wasn't true. Grantaire knew Enjolras loved his friends dearly. He would not have died blaming them, even if they had done something to deserve it. But they hadn't done anything except try and fail, and Enjolras… Enjolras never did listen to reason.

“Their forgiveness is theirs to give. Whether you believe yourself worthy of it is irrelevant.” Grantaire said, “And I know that not a single one of them would want you to suffer for their sake.”

Enjolras didn’t respond. Grantaire knew this meant he had won the argument, for now at least. It didn’t give him the satisfaction it used to.

“I wish I had died with them.” Enjolras’s voice was soft and dead, and it cut through Grantaire like a blade.

“Don’t say such things.” Grantaire refuted immediately.

“It’s true.”

“No, it’s not.” Grantaire tightened in grip on Enjolras’s waist

Enjolras didn’t respond again, and Grantaire knew he was still thinking about it. Living was so much harder than dying. Some days it seems so unfair that they have to keep going. It was hard not to think they would be better off dead.

“Stay with me,” Grantaire pleaded, “don’t leave, because if you do, I will follow.”

“R - “

“ _ No _ .” Grantaire buried his face into Enjolras’s hair and breathed him in, “Wherever you go I will follow, so please stay on this Earth with me.”

He felt Enjolras’ breath catch in his throat and his body still.

“I don’t know what to do anymore.” The whispered confession was a truth that had been hovering over their heads for weeks. The reality of the situation, the loss of purpose had sent Enjolras spiraling into a melancholy Grantaire didn’t know how to cure. Enjolras’ pain would not dissipate with a strong drink. 

“You have survived. It is a blessing even if it doesn’t seem like it now. If nothing else, I am grateful for every extra moment I get to spend with you.”

However much Enjolras might love him, Grantaire knew his mere presence wasn’t enough to keep Enjolras satisfied. Enjolras needed to be out there, fixing the world. His heart would never be full with anything less.

“Live to fight another day, my love.” Grantaire’s voice nearly broke under the weight of his words, “Perhaps next time- “

“You don’t believe that.”

Grantaire wanted to rebut him, tell Enjolras that he was wrong, tell him that he did believe now. But that would be a lie, and Enjolras always seemed to know when he was lying. His words were full of false hope, said for the sole purpose of keeping Enjolras by his side.

The truth was Enjolras was right. Grantaire didn’t believe in the revolution before, and he certainly didn’t believe in it now. Grantaire didn’t believe in a happily ever after, not for them, not for anyone really. But despite all that there was one thing he did believe in.

Grantaire sat up pulling Enjolras along with him. Grantaire cupped Enjolras’ cheek, stroking his thumb along the dried tear tracks. Enjolras’ face was blotchy and red from the tears, but even so Grantaire thought he was the most beautiful being he had ever seen. It was a wonder that Enjolras could find space in his heart for a wretch like him.

“I don’t know what the future will bring, but I can promise you, I will remain by your side for as long as you will have me.”

The smile that Enjolras gave him was wobbly at best, but it gave Grantaire some hope that he reached Enjolras.

“I should think by now you would know that I would have you forever.”

Grantaire leaned in close, placing an innocent kiss to Enjolras’s lips. His lips were chapped, and he had lost weight. Despite Grantaire’s best efforts Enjolras wasn’t taking care of himself as he should. But he was warm and alive and  _ here _ and that was so much more than Grantaire could ask for. It was certainly more than he deserved.

When they pulled apart Enjolras maneuvered himself so he was sitting in Grantaire’s lap. Enjolras rested his head against Grantaire’s chest, right above his heart. Enjolras had done this often enough that Grantaire recognized it as something that gave him comfort. Grantaire simply wrapped his arms around Enjolras and was content to hold him till sunrise.

“I am sorry,” Enjolras muttered into his chest, “I didn’t mean to turn into such a burden.”

Truly that must be the most ridiculous thing Enjolras had ever said. How many times had Enjolras nursed him when he overindulged? How many times had Enjolras held him when his melancholy had kept him from gathering the strength to get out of bed in the morning? Before the barricade Enjolras had given him more care, patience and love that he could ever repay, let alone deserve.

It was an honor to be the boat that kept Enjolras afloat in these hard times. Grantaire would never want to be anywhere else than by his side.

“You are no such thing.” Grantaire whispered into his hair. If only Enjolras knew what Grantaire was willing to do for him; holding him through nightmares was nothing. Grantaire would gladly give him his whole being if it could rebuild Enjolras’s spirit.

It was sometime later, when the first rays of dawn were beginning to enter through the window, that Grantaire heard the words that brought him peace for the first time since the barricades had fallen.

“I’ll stay.”

Grantaire breathed out slowly and held Enjolras close. At least they had each other.

_ Like a force to be reckoned with _

_ A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss _

_ I will love you with every single thing I have _

_ Like a tidal wave I'll make a mess _

_ Or calm waters if that serves you best _

_ I will love you without any strings attached _

_ I will love you without a single string attached _

**Author's Note:**

> No school because of the virus? Time to write fanfic!  
> I should be working on my wips but my internet was down, and I was unable to access google docs. So I started something new! Eventually I will post a multi chapter fic on this site I swear. I just have to finish one of them first…
> 
> Anyway, writing canon era is really hard. I can’t seem to get their voices quite right. Everything I write feels too modern, to me at least. I am working on a long canon era fic that has been driving me nuts. If nothing else this fic was good practice for that one.
> 
> Once again the title and lyrics are from "Two" by Sleeping At Last. Listen here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PrDzd4ufypE
> 
> If you see any mistakes, please tell me and I will fix them.
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
